Unforgettable
by Phoenix Refrain
Summary: The death of Portia. Week 3 of 13 Weeks of Rebellion


**Week 3 of 13 Weeks of Rebellion**

**Based on this text:**

_"Snow executed Peeta's stylist and his prep team on live television tonight."_

_Plutrarch Heavensbee_

**"_Bran thought about it. 'Can a man still be brave if he's afraid?'_ _'That is the only time a man can be brave,' his father told him."_**

**― _George R.R. Martin__, __A Game of Thrones_**

* * *

_This can't be happening. This can't be happening._

But it is.

All of this is terribly, frighteningly real.

The lights are shining down on me and my prep team where we're forcibly made to kneel. The irony isn't lost on me being here. This is where we prepared the tributes to come for their interviews. This is where, year after year, they stood on this stage pleading for their lives.

And now we're pleading for ours.

"Please, please," Vita is crying. Her long black hair is streaked with red as she looks up at President Snow standing over in the shadows "I don't want to die!" I can barely see her through the tears pouring out of my eyes, but I can hear the click of the gun.

I don't want to look, but I can't turn away. The bullet hits her between the eyes, mid-begging. The back of her skull flies off and I feel the splatter of her blood and brains as she falls down like a ragdoll. Her hair pools around her, and she looks like she could be sleeping if only there wasn't blood.

And inexplicably, I realize it's my fault. I chose her to help me. I chose her to be on my team, knowing what Cinna had planned. She was going to get married...She was going to live...not die...

_Cinna sits there with his hands folded. "Portia, I've joined the rebellion."_

"_What?" I ask him, sitting down beside him._

"_I've been with them for awhile, but I've never had anything to do. When I saw her volunteer for her sister Prim, I knew that she was the catalyst they were looking for. I requested her district, I told them that she was what we were looking for." He pauses, "I want her to win. But I'm scared because of what I've done-what will happen to her because of what I'd done."_

_I sit there for a moment, not knowing what to say. I'd always been happy in the Capitol. I'd never thought about Rebellion very much. "What does this mean?" _

"_I want you to help me. I want you to help us-help the rebellion. She needs to win," he says it gently._

"_But what about the boy? What about Peeta?"_

_He doesn't say anything for a long time. "We have to choose one of them and she has the best chance."_

"_I don't know if I can do this," I close my eyes. "I've been happy in the Capitol," I pause._

_Cinna stands up quickly and clenches and unclenches his fist. "But they aren't. They go to those Games and they don't come back. Not even when they win; they're just torn to pieces. And if we don't stop them, then the games will go on forever."_

"_And how are we supposed to stop them? She's just a girl, and we..."_

"_We have to turn her into something they won't ever forget. We have to make everyone see what we have. We have to show them it's not just a Game-that she's a person dying for..." He searches for the word._

"_For nothing," I finish and reach for his hand. "And now, if she dies-we'll make sure it's for a reason. We'll make her unforgettable." I blink back tears, "I'll help." It feels like the right thing to do. _

_So we sit by the fire and stare into it, making our plans._

I knew the risks. I knew them, but I never thought I'd be in danger. I never thought thatI'd be sitting here waiting to die on live television.

Harmon's blue hair is short cropped to his head, and his lips are moving fast and his eyes are closed. Snow pulls the trigger and half of Harmon's face comes off, the red blood flecking the white rose on Snow's lapel.

"_Cinna, you can't do this!" I'm crying. "If you do this then they'll kill you."_

_He kisses my lips lightly, "It's going to be okay." He shows me the design of the wedding dress, how it'll change her into the mockingjay with outspread wings. He shows me design after design planned for the Rebellion._

_So we set to work. We make it heavier, and we make it hide the secret of fiery transformation. We make the chariot outfits too, like smoldering embers-a fire waiting to be stoked. _

_Late into the night, we finish the final piece-a simple white dress laced with pearls in the shape of the heart. Cinna writes up the note, and places it in the box, "I'll give this to Haymitch later.'"_

"_When do they take us out of here?" I ask. I can feel myself shaking._

"_Soon," he says. _

_And I believe him up to the moment when she twirls and the dress goes up in flames. I know the truth as Snow looks at him, "He's going to kill him, kill us both."_

Patrice is hysterical. She's fighting against them to get away. They keep pushing her down to her knees and telling her to stop fighting, to just let it be easy. Because dying is so easy.

I feel my heart thudding in my chest, and I want to run too. I choke on the sobs as Patrice screams for me, "PORTIA! POR-" And the gun goes off as she's looking in my eyes. Her mouth moves and then she falls over. It's all my fault that she's here, that all three of them have died.

Snow is moving toward me.

I'm sobbing louder. My whole body is trembling as I think of Cinna.

_My face is bloody and bruised when they put on the video. They play it over and over again, and I watch as Cinna is beaten to death before my eyes. Everything I love has been taken. Even when they stop with the video, I see it over and over before my eyes. He's dead._

_He's dead._

He's dead.

I'm trembling and terrified. I'm going to die. This is it. All of my hopes and dreams smashed. I won't live past today. I won't get to see another sunset. I won't know if the rebellion I'm giving my life for will succeed. I don't have courage like Cinna. I don't have his faith in humanity. I never had his faith in the Mockingjay until now.

My face is screwed up in pain, and I let out a long sob. I bite my lip to try to hold back a sob as I look up into Snow's eyes. He's going to kill me. I'm going to die. I'm terrified.

Cinna was terrified and he still did what he had to do. He believed in the Mockingjay.

I take a deep breath and straighten myself on my knees as he brings the gun up.

"The Mockingjay will kill yo-"


End file.
